


Or Under His Autumnal Frost

by dizzy



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-14
Updated: 2006-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-17 15:31:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Not quite as grim as the title's <a href="http://www.cscs.umich.edu/~crshalizi/Poetry/Millay/And_You_As_Well_Must_Die.html">poem</a> would suggest.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Or Under His Autumnal Frost

Ianto almost died today.

Jack and Owen sit by his bed for hours waiting to see if he'll wake up. There are a thousand things Jack wants to do. He wants to find a way to fix it. He wants to do something to make it better. He snaps at Owen and shouts at Gwen when she tries to make him go get rest.

He tells her he doesn't sleep, not ever, so she can back the fuck off and just let him be. And stop looking at him like that, for fuck's sake, he's just worried.

He sees them all staring at him, looking, like they want to remind him that six months ago he held a gun to Ianto's head and said he'd shoot. He knows, he remembers, but _they_ don't know. They don't know what Ianto does and what he is, not really. Not any more than they know what Jack himself is, and what Jack does.

They don't know that Jack doesn't know if he can do it anymore without Ianto. They don't know. None of them know. Fucking idiots, he seethes. And then Ianto's hand twitches and Owen's on his feet and Jack's pushing Owen out of the way.

"Ianto?" Jack whispers, leaning over Ianto's body. So pale, so still, so beautiful, so dead.

Not dead. Not dead.

"Not dead," Ianto whispers, his mouth barely moving. "Jack."

"Get out of m'fuckin' way, Harkness," Owen growls, wielding medical equipment. Jack relents to Owen's expertise. Owen pokes and prods at Ianto, then whispers something in a voice Jack can't hear. It's always a surprise to see Owen so - tender, human. To see that spark of caring come alive in him.

He wonders if Ianto and Owen have ever had sex.

No, no, can't think about it, won't. Wouldn't do to punch Owen out while he's trying to save Ianto's life.

It isn't true, anyway. Ianto's not the kind of person to give himself to more than one person. If Jack's sure of anything, it's of Ianto's ability to cling to a percieved (sometimes perverted) loyalty. Lisa knew that, Lisa used it. Now Jack knows it, and Jack uses it. But he doesn't think he's hurting Ianto. He just likes not being lonely. He likes looking after the boy, protecting him, having him to fuck and then talk with and lay beside and touch. It's human contact and Jack's spent all of his long life craving it and wanting more of it. (Nonhuman contact, too, sometimes, but not lately, nothing but Ianto lately. If he's going to manipulate someone he has the decency to not fuck around on them.)

"He's out again," Owen announces. "But he came to for a few seconds, and that's something. That's _good_."

"Next time you'll let me talk to him," Jack says.

Owen glares. "Next time you'll let me do my job straight off and maybe he'll still be around tomorrow to talk to. I'm going to get some coffee. Gwen, Tosh? Wanna come with?"

Gwen seems reluctant, but Tosh agrees straightaway. After a few seconds of staring at Jack in a way that he assumes is supposed to be meaningful and poignant, Gwen goes with them.

Jack takes the chair beside Ianto's bed.

It's a few hours before Ianto comes to again. Gwen's gone home to sleep. Tosh is sleeping, too, but she never makes it past the sofa. Owen sits with her, sometimes talking in a low voice. He may be holding her hand.

When he sees Ianto's eyes flicker open, Jack knows he should be calling Owen over, but he does.

His breath catches at the terror and pain in Ianto's eyes. He covers Ianto's hand with his own and very lightly squeezes. "It's okay. You're at Torchwood. We've got you, 'yanto. I've got you."

Ianto swallows and winces.

"Do you want some water? Something to drink? Can you talk?" Jack gingerly touches Ianto's face, and Ianto's head turns into it just a little.

"Hurts," Ianto whispers, rough and scratchy. He stares up at Jack pleading for something, but Jack doesn't know what.

"Owen!" Jack shouts out. "He's awake."

Jack can't fix it, maybe, but Owen can make it better. He gives Ianto some sort of shot to numb the pain and hooks up an IV. Tosh watches fearfully when the machine gives a beep or two, but it calms down. Ianto is still awake, and looking somewhat more alert. His eyes fix on Jack. Jack nods a little and musters up a smile.

The tension dims but doesn't break completely. Jack shuts himself up in his office for a few hours, drinks and cuts himself just to watch the skin heal over. Gwen comes to try and talk to him, and he plunges a knife into his arm so she'll shut the fuck up and go away. She's a good girl, really, but he just doesn't have time for that right now. He's too busy being self destructive (with no fear of consequence).

Owen announces that Ianto is definitely improving, and that they're past the danger point. If the internal injuries haven't killed him already, they probably won't. Now they watch for other obstacles: something they've overlooking pushing to the forefront, or infection setting in. It's not a matter of hours now, but days, and then he'll (they'll) be in the clear.

Hours later, it's Tosh that finally comes to him: "He's asking for you. He's pretty coherant now."

Maybe they think he's less likely to yell at Tosh than the rest. They're probably right. He likes Tosh, he wants to protect her in the same way he wants to protect Ianto. Only less interest in seeing her naked, most of the time. He nods and follows her down to the makeshift trauma room where Ianto is propped up by pillows sipping water from a straw.

The rest file out of the room. Tosh shuts the door behind them.

"They think you've gone mad," Ianto says with a hint of a smile. He's bruised up and doped up but beautiful.

"Maybe they're right," Jack admits, shoulder's dropping.

He's tired and still restless, frustrated and replying the events of the past twenty-four hours in his mind to see how he failed (Ianto) and how he let them (him) down, why exactly he almost lost one of the few people he's invested in. But he stops and takes a breath and, for Ianto, he has a smile.


End file.
